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This foolish letter was written to H.W. Boynton1, not to Percy Boynton3.
Willa Cather June 11th 1937 FIVE BANK STREET March 7, 1916 Dear Mr. Boynton1:Your reply to my note half-converts me to the wooly “theory of Vibrations” which
fortune-tellers and theosophists tell about. When you say that you feel some
curiosity about what I am doing now, I can only say, nothing that interests me very
deeply; something rather dry and hard. Perhaps I’m doing it for the same reason that
violinists play Bach4 after they have been
working on very romantic modern things. The next book5
was pretty well planned out6, the
intention of it, at least, last fall. But the winter has been full of changes and
troubles. The les loss of old friends by death and
even by marriage, until I feel like the man “whom unmerciful
disaster followed fast and followed faster.”7 The milk has been too much
disturbed for the cream to rise. I am just beginning to keep engagements with my
desk again, and I hope, if you come into town2 this spring, that I may have some progress to report to you.
If you will let me know when you do come to town, and if you have time to hunt up
Bank Street8, I shall certainly be
at home, even if it is not on a Friday.